Don't Let Go
by Gintie
Summary: The war has ended in the literal sense but for Katniss it's still vastly present. Unable to let go and move on she continues to live in apprehension waiting for the last of those she loves to be executed at her hands. (Please review, your criticism enables me to write better fiction)
1. Run

Mud stuck like plaster to her feet and the aroma of moss entangled with lavender thrilled her senses whilst the lash of bitterly cold rain stung her skin. It was far too wet and cold for any coherent person or even animal to be outside but Katniss was long past being lucid, in her distracted state this was freedom.

After the rebellion there wasn't great need for Katniss to hunt. Enough food was delivered to district twelve that mouths no longer needed to be fed through her hunting and she couldn't fathom killing merely for her own pleasure so she had to find another means for calming herself when the nightmares, or the flashbacks or just the monotony of life became to unendurable.

It was an afternoon when she had been out hunting to grace her own table that she came to a realization there was in fact a hobby that could give her the same adrenalin rush, the same feeling of peace that hunting did.

She had court a wild turkey and began to saunter home but because of a heavy rain fall the night before Katniss's boots where heavy from a buildup of mud on the souls. She decided to take them off and walk barefoot.

The feeling of soft mud between her toes on this particular afternoon was calming and gave Katniss a feeling of at oneness with her surroundings a sentiment that had long been forgotten for Katniss. She hadn't felt this kind of connection to the world around her since before the uprising, maybe even before her first games. She spent most of her time trying to block the world out for all the affliction it coursed her and as a consequence had blocked out its beauty.

She felt the trees as she walked and took in the smells of nature an aroma of moss, leaves and dampness. She gave way to her senses and let them envelop her in nature's bliss and before she knew it the turkey strapped to her belt had been put down and she could feel the wind in the wisps of hair that had come undone from her braid and hear the whistles of birds as they egged her on.

She was running. Bear foot, out in the forest away from people with the feeling of the earth between her toes and the sounds and smells of nature surrounding her and enveloping her senses.

So it ended up being that it didn't matter whether it was 3am or 3pm, if the suns raise stung or rain did the same. Whenever she became overwhelmed with life she would run.

And so she ran now, refusing to let her anguish catch her on a particularly dismal and cold day. She didn't want to confront the feelings that would no doubt raise inside of her if she stopped and so she was refusing too. Her lunges ached as did the souls of her feet that had started to blister from the cold but she kept going.

Maybe she would die running? Was that possible? To refuse to stop for so long that you die going forward? A minor beam lifted Katniss's lips at the thought that perhaps she could outrun her own thoughts and feelings until she no longer had to feel them anymore.

She could feel herself slowing though, as hard as she tried to keep moving at a fast pace, her body wasn't letting her and the slower her body became the further up it her thoughts would rise. She tried to concentrate on the smells and sounds of her surroundings but this was no match for the venom that was rising. She tried concentrating on the pain in her feet from the cold and the stinging of her skin from the rain instead but it was purposeless. Her true thoughts and feelings simply ate away at her planted ones.

Katniss's knees buckled as the thoughts finally started to seep into her mind and she fell to ground in a hump, her minds assault effecting her physically. Her left rib hit the sharp of a rock on her way down to the mud but the pain didn't falter her, she was already adrift inside thoughts of fear, abandonment, torture and betrayal.

It could have been hours or merely minutes that Katniss laid mentally untethered in the earth meandering inside her subconscious able to feel and smell and touch but unable to comprehend or understand, so when warm fingers embraced her shivering side her reaction was fierce.

"Don't touch me!" her voice was threatening as she squatted away a hand incoherent to the nature of its owner. He had no intention of hurting her but she was in too deep to know and simply withered away from him in emotional agony, curling herself into a ball so tightly that she could touch her sides with her fingers after they had wrapped around her legs. Her feet where positioned one in front of the other with her toes squeezed in so tightly it was probably going to cause a spasm in her feet.

He sat himself down next to her in the damp mire resting his back against the bark of a tree. Attempting to shake or scream her out of disillusionment was futile, he knew because he had tried it innumerable times before. So he would wait. At least until she stopped screaming before attempting like numerous time before to get her back home where she's safer.

He looked up and pondered over the sky, he didn't like the colour it held at present. It had been raining for days and while he didn't think much about colour pallets generally the colour grey did not tickle his fancy. It was a mopey, dreary, dull colour and he had enough mopey, dreary and dullness in his life without the colour of the sky adding to it.

With a sigh he crossed his legs at the ankles, pull the flask out of his jacket pocket and pondered over how much he wished Thom hadn't come knocking on his door at 5am and instead saved him the intolerable trip he already had to make at least twice weekly. He was feed up. But unfortunately the good in him he wished he didn't have and the love he couldn't help but feel for the girl overpowered his laziness as well as his want to be warm and comfortable at this ungodly hour, which meant that when the knock came at the door he was ready, dressed and alert and not at all surprised to hear that she could be heard screaming from Thom's little cottage just outside the woods.

And so he sat out in the rain, covered in soot, sitting in mud waiting for her to come round enough or pass out so that he could then carry her home, where her screams where slightly more muffled from the public's ears and where she was safer with him closer by.

He only sat for around five minutes before the screaming subsided meaning that whatever visions she was having where less intense and quickly after that the shaking of terror in her body eased to shivering, her eyes where no longer squeezed shut and her toes no longer squeezed together. Her eyes opened and stared passed him and into the woods fixed on nothing and he knew she had gone numb. Aware of her surroundings but unable to feel, think, speak or move.

He made a sigh of relief both from being glad he didn't have to sit out here for hours like other times and because he no longer had to injure watching her torture. He got up and brushed his soiled hands on his trousers before lifting her slim body with ease. He noticed blood on the left side of her shirt and cursed under his breath. One day this girl was going to end up killing herself out here in the woods and he nor anyone else would be here to stop it from happening. He was going to have to call Dr. Aurelius and see if he could make part of her restrictions to be that she was not allowed out into the forest without supervision. She would hate him for it and it would probably drive her even madder then she already was but a least she would be safer. It was a fare trek back to the victors' village but Katniss weighed less than a child because of her new found compulsion for running and her ill desire to eat, so it wouldn't be a difficult one.

It was nearly six thirty by the time he made it back to the victors' village with a shivering Katniss in his arms. He was exhausted, not just from the walk but because this was around the time he either went to bed or otherwise had already passed out. He could see the sun coming up behind the victors' village mansions and decided that his job for the day was done. He needed to dispose of the girl and go and hibernate before the sun could burn though his eye sockets fry his brain.

He laid Katniss down on a couch in the living room directly in front of the fire place. He poked at the red ash until there was a flame and threw some extra wood on before turning to walk out the door. "Haymitch you don't have too." She didn't look at him when she talked, her eyes lost in the flames. Her voice was quiet and held a slight bit of resentment towards him. This agitated Haymitch. His whole life since she returned to district twelve was consumed by Katniss. He had a responsibility to safeguard her and that responsibly ran deeper than 'because the government told him so.' It was as if she was his flesh and blood and he cared for her in that way.

She thought he trekked through the woods at an unreasonable hour, sat in the rain and then carried her all the way back to the victors' village simply because he was told he had to? Whilst part of the reason may have been because he didn't want the whole district to be woken by her screaming he was still unnerved by the fact that she thought he did it simply as a duty.

"You're right sweetheart I don't." he strolled out of the lounge room and towards the door taking a swing from his flask on the way out into the bitterly cold air. He made his way across the victors' village and knocked on the door directly opposite from the one he had just emerged. He knew he could not leave Katniss on the couch in her wet clothes because in her state she would do very little to help herself but he was fed up, tried and it was someone else's turn.

Haymitch hadn't even got the chance to knock twice before the door opened and a burnt out Peeta stood on the other side, his eyes shallow and annoyed. "She can look after herself" Peeta's tone was tiresome as if this was a situation he was all too familiar with. "And a dapper good morning to you too." Haymitch's voice was rich with sarcasm and insincerity. "I understand that attractive men such as yourself need to take time to brood but when you're finished I'd appreciate it you could go and bath and dress the kitten so that she doesn't die of phenomena." Haymitch talked in a bored tone of voice ready for retaliation. "She doesn't want me in her presence and frankly I feel the same." Peeta crossed his arms over his chest and looked un begrudging but Haymitch knew that he was weak willed when it came to Katniss and would go to check on her as soon as he left, so with the thought in mind he replied with "whatever you reckon lover boy I'm going to bed." And left the boy's front porch heading to his own, his hands grasping each side of the hood of his coat as we went pulling it closer to his face to try and stay as dry as possible in the rain.

After Haymitch had left Peeta stood in his door way peering over at the house directly in front of him. His relationship with the girl inside it was vexations and pestilential effecting everyone within a large radius of the two of them together. Whilst Katniss was as usual the main integrator of the furry behind the fight Peeta did very little to resolve it deciding that her words had been unambiguous and so simply quit talking to her.

Even though they didn't talk and tension was high whenever they were found in the same proximity there was moments where Peeta had to let his guard down in order to protect her and this was one of those moments. He would go over to her house like many time before when Haymitch had tired of looking after her and her self-destructive nature and so Peeta would resume the duty. Some days Katniss would howl and shriek at him in fits of rage telling him to get out, to stay away from her, asking why he couldn't just leave her alone telling him he was a fool among other obscenities. These where the most common of occurrences. Some days though he would walk in and she would simply be numb, emotionally drained from whatever fit she had already had and wouldn't protest as Peeta cleaned up the mess she made and tried to ameliorate what damage she had inflicted upon herself. As he walked into the living room of Katniss's house he knew it would be the later today.

She was settled in a couch closest to the fire knees bend next to her chest, her eyes stumped and watching the flames. She was numb. He made his way over to her and crouched down so that his face was level with hers. He examined her eyes taking in her hurt and her torture and knew that today was a particularly wearying one. Taking a deep breath in he sighed and caressed the side of her face, rubbing his thumb along her eyebrow and down to her jaw. He wasn't sure if she knew he was there and just unable to respond or if she was completely in another universe too far away to be able to feel his touch.

Moving his other hand to rub the hair on the top of her head he gazed down to survey her body's condition. She was wet and covered in soot and he also noticed that her shirt was slightly blood stained. He kneeled down onto the ground and lifted up her shirt revealing a laceration over one of her ribs along with prominent bruising. It didn't look so bad that she might bled to death but it needed to be cleaned.

After observing the rest of Katniss's body and taking off her drenched coat, socks and boots he stood up and lifted her into his arms. She was still adrift in an alternate reality as he carried her up the staircase and into the bathroom. He sat her on the floor and she stayed upright with her back against the wall as he went over to fill the bathtub. He may have bitter feeling towards Katniss but his kindness and the love he wished he didn't feel for her overthrew any anguish felt in her presence. So when she needed to be looked after he came even if he liked to make Haymitch think otherwise.

He poured lavender scented liquid in the now half full bath water and watched as the oils combined with the water and admitted an appealing aroma. Peeta noticed that Katniss's eyes where roaming the bathroom now aware of her surrounding but she still seemed lost in a daze. He walked over to her and again crouched in front of her. Her eyes surveyed him but didn't seem to really connect with her brain to communicate to her the situation and so she didn't react as he began to peel off the wet shirt from her torso and over her head and still had no response when he unclasped her bra freeing her chest or even when she stood as guided by Peeta while he removed her trousers and her underwear. Her eyes simply watched him as she stood motionless and unresponsive. The only response Peeta could get from Katniss was her staying in the positions he put her in.

He scanned over her naked frame. She was as thin as he had ever seen her, her muscles and bones suck out prominently, her breast and collar bones looked ready to tear skin and her knees looked wobbly and worn. She was still beautiful Katniss to Peeta though just in a sicker form, more like the starving girl he gave bread then the women who defeated the capital.

Peeta turned to the sink and grabbed a face washer to clean the blood off Katniss's side so it didn't run in the bath. She shook slightly as he dabbed at the cut. "I'm sorry" he mumbled quietly every time the cloth came in contact with her skin. She must have been becoming more aware if she was able to feel pain he thought and contemplated just how aware she was of her current situation. It mustn't have been very if she was allowing for him to touch her.

Once her side was cleaned he picked her up under the arms and placed her in the bathtub. Her knees bent voluntarily when her feet hit the bottom of the tub and he held her under the arms until she had shrunk down so that her bottom was also in contact with the tub. Katniss sat passively backed up against the side of the bathtub with her knees in front of her chest as Peeta grabbed a loufa, some liquid soap and shampoo and conditioner.

Peeta decided to start with washing out all the soot that had accumulated in her hair. Scooping up water with his hands he slowly wet and then proceeded to wash her hair. It was a tedious process trying to wash her hair in the bath without dunking her head in it but Peeta knew she was exhausted and wouldn't be able to stand in the shower long enough for him to wash her properly so this was his only option.

As he massaged his fingers though her hair she began to relax slightly, the tension in her shoulders easing. Peeta started to wonder when she was going to wake out of her alternate reality and start screaming insanities at him, he hoped it wasn't before he was able to wash her properly because from what he could tell she hadn't washed properly in weeks.

When Peeta finished with her hair he went to the sink cupboard to grab another face washer, this time actually for her face. As he slowly wiped the dirt from her forehead and under her eyes she gazed up at him, looking him in the eyes for the first time this morning. There was a hint of something placid adoration maybe? Before realization hit her and her eyes narrowed resentment and rage sitting behind them. Peeta leaned back away from her preparing himself for the verbal battle about to begin. She was back and part of him was thankful.


	2. Let Me Help You

"Get out." it came out as a feeble whisper but the fierceness in her tone was obtrusive and prominent. Katniss sharply pointed her finger to the door and used her other hand to cover her exposed breasts. Her face showed fierceness but inside she was withering from the thought of being seen so mentally and physically bare. She must have looked so impotent to him and this made her both intimidated and furious.

Peeta had no intention on listening to Katniss's request and instead moved closer to the bath where she sat naked and seething "You need help Katniss." He tried to say it as calmly and pleasantly as he could but regrettably there was still a hint of indignation in his voice which would do little more than fuel her wrath.

Her voice was this time clear and prominent, just a decimal lower than a scream "Get out!" Weakness was something she refused to show, especially to Peeta and right now was the weakest she had ever felt in front of him. Peeta still made no move to vacate her bathroom. Katniss's face must have been the colour of fire from the rage building inside her

"You need to call Dr. Aurelius and for once in your god damn life take some advice from someone and get some help instead of starving yourself and stumbling around in the woods nulled out. You're nothing but a burden on everyone in the district especially me and Haymitch." His tone matched hers in furry. Part of him knew he didn't mean it and that she couldn't help it but he was just so sick of her foul attitude toward him when all he ever did was try to help and god forbid love the insolent girl.

She faulted in her fierce stamina as he finished his rant her bottom lip quivering slightly. She was about to lose her composure and refused to let go in front of him. She stood up in the bath no longer caring about her physical state instead concerned more about the sobs rising in her chest. She frantically looked around the bathroom for something to cover herself so that she could get out and away from his condemnatory gaze but found nothing so decided to make a brake for it nude instead.

As soon as she stepped out of the bathtub she was ready to break into a run and probably would have succeeded in getting away if he hadn't been one step ahead of her, his hand grasping all the way around the top of her right arm as she tried to run to the door on the left. "You need to stop this Katniss, Stop running and face me. Face yourself even." Peeta had had enough of her bullshit, of not talking to her and letting her destroy herself. "I'm trying to help you Katniss and all you're doing is being insolent and foolish." His words sounded harsh even if the intention behind them was good-natured.

"You're the fool Peeta." Katniss's voice cracked when she spoke and she instantly regretted opening her mouth and sounding so weak. Peeta couldn't understand her though what did she mean? How was he being the fool? Was it because of his unrequited love? Did she think that his attempts at helping her would fail maybe? He couldn't understand her and so he simply continued to watch her saying noting in reply as she tugged at her arm harshly trying to free it from his grasp. When Peeta's grip didn't falter she turned and used her left arm in a feeble attempt to extricate her right attempting to pry off his fingers with her own failing wholly. She let out a wail and her chin began to jitter. Katniss felt so defeated and so desperately wanted to get away from Peeta but her desperation only made her sobs rise further up her chest. She was visibly shaking now and Peeta simply stood watch wavering very little at her attempts to free herself from him.

Katniss wanted to howl at him, to tell him to let go and to leave her alone but she couldn't because she knew if she opened her mouth sobs would be the only sound to come out so in a powerless attempt to be free of him she looked up to make contact with his eyes and beg him wordlessly to release her. She just wanted to run and hide, why wouldn't he let her? Why did he want to watch her suffer? This wasn't helping her. Leaving her alone was the best way for him to help her.

Katniss looked up only to be court in his gaze pleading with the same intensity as hers. He was pleading her to stop. To give in. But she couldn't and so with her head thrown back she let out a heavy sob and began to claw at him sobbing profusely. To Peeta it almost looked as if she was a small merchant child throwing a tantrum, crying and wriggling and clawing at his arm with her eyes squeezed shut as if he had told her she wasn't allowed the cupcake in the bakery window only Katniss was naked and full gown. If this wasn't an indication as to the seriousness of the nature of her mental disorientation Peeta would have found it comical but because of it absurdity he found it solely worrying.

Peeta stood watching her assault that did very little to falter him, maybe a few scratches and bruises but she was far too feeble and malnourished to inflict serious damage. He stood for what would have been minutes before he'd had enough of her torment and pulled her closer to him by the arm he had a hold of before picking her up by her lower back and carrying her out of her bathroom and to her bedroom. She pulled out a few strands of his hair and scratched at his face as he carried her. She screamed at him to let go but this only infuriated Peeta and gave him more reason to hold her.

He was furious not at her but at what her mental illness had let her become and that he had done very little to prevent it from happening. Haymitch had hinted warnings of the extent to her mental deterioration but Peeta didn't think it was this bad.

Once Peeta got her to the bedroom he laid her down on the bed and sat atop of her legs holding both her arms tightly in one of his. She had become completely disorientated in her fit of rage and sorrow that she was not only clawing at him but at herself, pulling out her hair and scratching at her arms and face, he wasn't sure if she even knew why she was fitting anymore. He grabbed each side of the blanket at the head of the bed and wrapped them around her torso before tying the ends together trapping her arms in so that the top half of her body down to her thighs laid tightly wrapped in the blanket and away from harming herself or him.

Sitting back Peeta rubbed a hand though his hair grasping it tightly at the top exasperated from the situation at hand. She was still fitting and he was sure that she was lost in some state of self-depiction. He watched her patiently waiting for her affliction to dissipate. This whole situation was superfluous and fictitious to him. The girl who he had always regarded as having more strength, more stability and more common sense than anyone he had ever known sat beneath him debilitated by her own thoughts and emotions. Peeta blinked back tears until he had to start wiping at them with the sleeve of his shirt. He turned away from Katniss and tried to recompose himself.

It scared Peeta to think that this could have been him right alongside her stuck in an alternate reality for the most part of his day all because he refused to seek help. He remembered what it felt like when he had been hijacked, living in a state of trepidation, not being able to grasp what was real and understand that he was no longer under threat. Katniss was also living in this state of apprehensiveness and it was a lot worse than what he had led himself to believe.

Peeta got up from the bed still unable to stop the rush of silent tears and choose to sit in a couch near the window as appose to on the bed. He couldn't stand to watch and feel her agony any longer and so he turned and looked out of the window continuing to wait for her to tier herself out.

It was nearly noon by the time Katniss had passed out for the second time that day. Peeta waited another few minutes just sitting and watching her, she jolted every few minutes, her eyes shuffling under her eye lids. She was having a nightmare. Peeta raised out of his couch and moved over to her untying her from her restraint before hastily making his way out. He couldn't bare it anymore.


End file.
